


Resilience

by myworldisbiworld



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Friendship, OC backstory, Recovery, Suicidality, pre-game, unlikely friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18060002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myworldisbiworld/pseuds/myworldisbiworld
Summary: Depressed from his recent divorce, Sheriff Earl Whitehorse wants nothing more than to give up when he stumbles upon a new friend.A short story about the kindness of strangers, and how Rook came to be Rook.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Sheriff Whitehorse, and so does my Deputy. Hopefully this story will explain why.
> 
> Rated teen for language, drug/alcohol use, and eventual suicidal themes.

It wasn’t his usual bar.

No, Earl wasn’t ready to sit at the Spread Eagle and be swamped by the pity of his community. The divorce was still too fresh and painful to talk about with others, though God knew his wife had been planning it for a while. 

So, with a weekend to himself for once, he took his truck and just drove. He didn’t have a specific destination in mind, only one requirement: he didn’t know anyone there. Unfortunately, that meant going out of the county, and then another few over. He was still feeling anxious by the time he settled for a place, but the sun had set hours ago, and he was tired of driving.

Luckily enough, he didn’t know a soul in sight. The bar was decently packed for a Saturday evening, but he snagged a seat at the far end of the bar and began with a beer. A game was on, distracting most folks while others engaged in pool, but Earl kept his eyes on his glass. As the hours slid by, so did his sobriety. 

He was entirely drunk when the commotion began. A loud crash jerked his head up, and by the time his blurry vision settled on the source, there was the sickening crack of a pool stick being snapped in half. Stumbling to his feet out of instinct, his hand reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, he took in the scene.

Given the lateness of the hour, the bar was nearly empty. Across the room near the pool tables, there were two of them against one, but one fellow was already knocked on the ground. By the looks of him, that’s where the pool cue had ended up. The solitary person had their back to him, still clutching the other half of the cue. 

“Alright, alright, break it up!” he shouted, half-slurring his words. He pushed himself away from the bar, wobbling on drunken knees. 

“Back off, old man!” One man called out. “Go home.”

“Listen here, I’m an officer--”

“Really, man? Just back off before you make a fool of yourself.”

Earl fumbled for his badge, pulling it out of his pocket along with his wallet, which fell to the floor. Cursing, he tried to bend over and reach for it, only to drop painfully to his knees. As he groaned in pain, he heard the two men laughing. Tears stung his eyes as shame and nausea twisted in his gut, keeping his head down as he stayed on his knees.

The sound was interrupted by another loud crack, followed by the sounds of heavy fists hitting flesh. One of the men fell to the ground next to him, landing hard on his back with blood spurting from a broken nose. The second man followed soon after, curled on his side and whimpering in pain.

A warm hand rested on Earl’s shoulder. Carefully, the hand on his shoulder slid down to his arm, helping him to his feet. Earl was surprised by the strength of the stranger, knowing he wasn’t a small man, but they took the brunt of his weight without hesitation. When he looked down, he saw a trail of blood on his sleeve, and realized that it came from the stranger’s hands.

Earl was about to thank them when one of the downed men drew a gun. He shoved the stranger aside, putting himself between them and the gun, thrusting his badge out with one hand.

“You don’t want to do that, son,” he warned gruffly. “Sometimes it's best to leave well enough alone.”

“Cops are on their way!” shouted the barkeep from behind them. “Now get your asses out of here!  _ All _ of you!”

Hooking their arm with his, the stranger stayed with him as they watched the three men scramble out the door. Following them out, Earl saw with relief that they drove in the opposite direction to Hope County. 

Still far too drunk to drive, but with the threat of police showing up, Earl stood by his truck door, cradling his keys in his palm.

“No way.”

This time, the hand was firm as the stranger jerked him aside and took his keys. With the hoodie dropped, Earl finally caught a clear view of the face and raised his eyebrows in surprise. So his knight in shining armor was a woman. No more than thirty, with a shaved head and a crooked nose that had been broken more than once. 

“You think you’re in any better shape?” he belched irritably, bracing himself against the truck to keep steady.

“Yeah, for starters, I don’t drink. Get in, I’ll take you home.” 

She helped him into the passenger seat, ignoring his mumbled and weak protests, then threw her backpack into the truck bed before climbing into the driver’s seat. The truck roared to life, V8 thrumming loudly, and Earl watched as the stranger threw the truck into reverse and got them pointed towards the highway.

“Please tell me you live that way.” She jerked her thumb east, towards Hope.

Earl nodded, still dazed by the experience. What the hell was going on?

Time and miles slid by in utter silence, both of them staring straight ahead. Earl’s drunken mind easily drifted back to his well of regrets, and there he willingly drowned himself, as he felt he deserved. At some point, he must’ve fallen asleep, because he woke up to a gentle shoulder shake.

“So, uh, where do you live?” the woman asked as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Hope County,” he answered, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. At least he didn’t feel so damn drunk. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was near four in the morning, and he wondered how long they’d been driving--he couldn’t remember when they left the bar.

“Uh… where’s that?” 

Earl tried to take a peek out the window, but the world was too dark and the landscape too vague for him to get a good idea of where they were. But a familiar sign passed by, indicating they were at least on the right path.

“A good while from here.” He turned back to the stranger. “Where do you need to be?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She shrugged. When he didn’t reply, she glanced at him, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not going to steal your car. I know that badge is real.”

Earl scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “You got into quite the mess back there, kid.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she answered absently. “Hey, tell me where to go, then you can rest up. No way you’re driving tonight.”

“I’m not that drunk,” he protested half-heartedly. 

She only snorted. 

“Why are you doing this for a stranger, kid?”

“Why did you help me, old man?”

“It’s what I do for a living,” Earl answered with a huff. 

_ Because you never can help yourself, can you? _ snapped the memory of his wife’s voice. Earl shook his head tried to focus on the road again.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright, alright.” Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her smartphone. Without looking down, she unlocked it and tossed it into Earl’s lap. “You know how to put your address in that thing?”

“You’re not going to get much signal out here.” Earl clicked it off and set the phone on the dash. “I’ll talk you through it. But it’s a long drive.”

She shrugged, and they drove on in silence again. For the rest of the drive, Earl had nothing to say but directions, his mind otherwise returning again and again to all the things he should have done. Without realizing it, he toyed with the wedding band he still wore.

The sun had risen by the time they entered Hope county, and it was near seven when they pulled into Earl’s driveway. While the stranger climbed out of the truck immediately, snatching her pack up out of the truck bed, Earl lingered in his seat. He barely noticed when the stranger hand come up to his door, his eyes still glued to his front door. 

“You gonna be alright, old man?” she asked warily, one hand resting on the open window frame. 

Earl cleared his throat and popped his door open, the stranger nimbly stepping out of the way in time. He headed straight for his house, then paused at the front door, patting his pockets.

“Holy shit, old man, here.” The stranger nudged him aside and, using the keys she was still holding, opened the door for him. She left the keys sitting in the door and stepped aside, holding the door open for him. “Go get some sleep.”

Earl took a few steps in, but lingered in his entryway, looking around his house like a stranger. Everything sure did look different now, nothing like the spotless house his wife ( _ ex- _ wife) liked to keep. A strange part of him felt embarrassed that someone saw his house like this, for all that it didn’t really matter anymore.

The hinges of his front door squeaked behind him, causing him to turn around. Catching her eye, the stranger paused closing the door. 

“Do you… uh…” He scratched his beard nervously. “Do you need a place to stay?”

The stranger looked around the room and Earl felt his embarrassment freshly again. 

“I’ll clean up, but I got a second bedroom if you need a bed for a while.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I got the space now.”

An awkward moment passed by, during which he expected to hear the sound of the door shutting. Hell, who would trust an offer like that from a mess of a man like him? Even a drifter like her had to know better than to--

“Alright.” The door shut, but this time she was standing on the inside. She gave him a shy smile and set her bag down with a thunk. “Thanks.”

Earl caught himself smiling back. 

“Nah,” he said, coughing and looking away. “Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Earl woke up in the late afternoon to a hell of a headache and the unmistakable stench of marijuana. The first problem kept him in bed, his sore temples pounding with each heartbeat, his eyes unwilling to face the golden sunlight that leaked through his windows. The floral curtains his wife had loved fluttered in a soft breeze that brought that stink again. And soon he rolled out of bed, replaced his old clothes with ones that were wrinkly but clean. He flung open his bedroom door with a huff and stormed down the short hallway, ready to shout.

The living room was lit but empty, and clean enough to stop him in his tracks. The floor was as spotless as you could get it without running a vacuum, table surfaces either cleared off or organized neatly. On the dining table was a plate of food--potatoes, green beans, and a hunk of what looked like venison--sealed neatly with cling wrap. Though the smell of cooking lingered, the kitchen was equally spotless to the living room. Cookware dripped in dish rack next to the sink, alongside another white plate. 

Earl just stood there, blinking stupidly, feeling as though he were still dreaming. 

Smoke drifted through the screen door to the rear porch, reminding him to be mad. Walking outside, he squinted at the setting sun peeking through the trees. To his left, he found his guest lounging on the hanging porch swing, staring out across Holland Valley. Dying light gilded all it touched, giving everything a halo effect.

The woman glanced at him, unabashedly taking a long drag from her joint. Orange light flared from the tip, reflecting in her dark eyes. She at least had the decency to blow the smoke out and away from the house, but the breeze brought it all back.

She flashed a smile. 

“Morning. Beautiful place you got here.” 

“You can put that out now,” Earl grumbled.

She shrugged. “You eat yet?”

“You don’t have to…” Earl gestured haphazardly at the house. “Don’t need a maid.”

“Not like  _ you _ were going to cook or clean anytime soon.”

The words stung only because they were true. Keeping up with housework was the last thing on his mind, always had been. One of those things that he should have changed long ago, one of those things that maybe would have kept her from leaving...

“I’'m… I’ll eat.” Earl turned away, mumbling over his shoulder. “And put that damn thing out. I don’t want it in my house.”

The woman just chuckled and kept smoking.

After Earl ate, he sat at the table, staring at his empty plate, and then his empty table. His ears rang with the silence of the house, until he heard his guest cough outside. That was enough to snap him out of his daze. 

After he washed his dishes and settled into his favorite chair, she walked back in the house. He ignored her and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels, but nothing called out to him. It wasn’t until she spoke that he realized she’d taken a seat nearby.

“What’s on?”

“Nothin’ much,” he answered automatically.

They watched a few talk shows he flipped through, committing to nothing. Sitting in silence, Earl felt similarly to when they’d been in his truck together. His mind wandered off, honing in on his regrets, and she didn’t seem keen on sparking up a conversation. 

Which was fine by him. Earl was too miserable to talk much, already dreading going back into the office tomorrow and dealing with his co-workers. He wished desperately that he was tired, that he could just sleep through it all and wake up feeling better. 

Time slid slowly by before he glanced over at his guest, almost forgetting she was there until there was a lull in the sound. She was staring at the screen as well, a blank look on her face.

“Don’t you sleep?” he grunted, noticing that it was almost midnight.

“Not really,” she answered, shrugging.

“Sleep’s good for you. You need it.”

“I don’t think you’re the best person for advice on sleep,” she quipped, raising an eyebrow at him. “And only one of us has to get up for work tomorrow.”

“And how did you know that?”

“Aside from the fact that it’ll be Monday?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the blinking answering machine he hadn’t bothered to check. “Nancy called and left a message about some meeting.”

Earl huffed and turned away again. “Shouldn’t be gettin’ into my business.”

The woman snorted. “If I wanted to do that, I would have answered.”

She had a point.

More time passed by in relative silence, during which she got up to smoke another joint. Earl grumbled wordlessly to himself, but didn’t bother stopping her. Still, when she came back in, he had a word or two for her.

“What’s a kid like you doing wandering around, anyway? Gets dangerous on the road. Especially for young ladies.”

“That’s some old school shit.” She plopped down on the couch and dragged her long legs up to her knees, balancing her chin on top. 

“Where are you heading? I can help you get there.”

“Best you don’t know, old man. I'll be out of your hair soon enough.” The arms around her legs squeezed tight, her fingers gathering her sweatpants up in fists so tight her scarred knuckles went white. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

But Earl was a Sheriff for a reason.

“You in trouble, kid?” he asked gently.

She glared at him. “Just hold do you think I am?”

Earl shrugged. “Reckon no more than twenty five.”

“I’m almost thirty two.” She paused, then added more quietly, “Probably.”

“And how long have you been on the road?”

“Long enough,” she muttered.

_ Poor thing _ , Earl thought. Wasn’t the first time he’d met someone like her, someone who’d probably felt lost their whole lives. These days, he wasn’t too far off himself.

“Well, you can stay here long as you like.” Earl turned back to the TV. 

“I don’t want--”

“Ain’t no trouble,” Earl insisted, turning up the volume. “Long as you like.”

As fake laughter poured out of the speakers, flattering some late night host, the two of them went quiet again. Some time later, Earl thought he heard crying, but he kept his eyes focused on the TV. 

Sometimes it was best to leave well enough alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Other chapters will bring in the rest of the gang, but I had to get my girl to Hope County first.


End file.
